Sully's French Maid
by Sullys Sidekick
Summary: Is Sully's experience real or imagined? A sexy yet humourous look at Dr. Mike in a way we've never seen her before. ***This story is for entertainment only - please DO NOT take it seriously. I promise it will come to a logical, believable conclusion.


SULLY'S FRENCH MAID

**Sully's French Maid**

By: Tess Thieler

Timeline: Somewhere between "Dorothy's Book" and "Promises, Promises."

This humorous, yet sexy short story is intended purely for entertainment.

Please Do Not Take It Seriously. I hope it makes you laugh.

Indirectly inspired by the song, "_Bette Davis Eyes."_ Enjoy!

Soaked through to his skin from the unexpected November downpour, Indian Agent Byron Sully silently opened the front door to his homestead. Warm air from inside brushed his face as his four-footed loyal companion bee-lined for the hearth where the remnants of a once toasty fire still radiated some heat. The distinct sound of Wolf shaking the excess water from his fur echoed in the midnight quiet. As the furry creature curled up by the fireplace, Sully hung his fringed leather coat on its usual peg, removed his muddy boots then wearily trod up the stairs. His muscles felt stiff, chilled from the cold rain he endured on the ride home from the reservation. Maintaining the peace as Indian Agent wasn't always easy, but it was a necessary part of his job that, on days like this, stole away valuable time from his loving wife.

A pale yellow glow emitting from the master bedroom's open door gave Sully enough light to move easily in the darkness. Upon entering the room, his tired eyes caught Michaela's sleeping form. Despite the late hour, he silently hoped his wife would still be awake upon his return. Disappointment caused him to draw a long breath… he sure could use some holdin'.

Shifting his gaze from Michaela, he noted the fire burning low in the hearth. As he added more wood, the growing flames dispensed a surge of heat into the room. After pushing the bedroom door nearly closed, Sully moved back towards the fire and stripped himself of his wet clothing. He draped the wet articles over a rocker that sat close to the hearth.

Standing before the leaping flames, running an occasional hand through his now drying hair, his physically toned body absorbed the warmth it desperately needed. Satisfied, he then joined his lovely wife curled beneath their heavy quilt. Sliding close to her, he detected the heat of her body against his skin. Contently sensing the subtle aroma of Michaela's scented soaps, he closed his eyes and drifted off into a deep, much needed sleep.

A short while later, Sully became increasingly aware of a gentle massaging motion traveling up and down his arm and over his exposed muscular shoulder. Fighting off the unconsciousness of slumber, he forcefully opened his sleepy eyes. What appeared to be a strange woman, leaned intimately over him and her heavy perfume hung in the air. Lack of recognition alarmed his internal instincts and he scrambled to create a proper distance, grasping the quilt in his haste for decency.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," the woman uttered in a familiar dulcet tone. "I just thought you might be hungry… you've had a long day." The feminine voice carried a hint of a Boston accent.

"Michaela?" Sully questioned into the semidarkness.

"You were expecting another?"

Sully rubbed his eyes as Michaela set a small tray of tea and biscuits in the center of the bed at his side. "Ah… no… you just surprised me, is all."

"Good answer." she approved, angling forward to bestow upon him a gentle kiss. "I've missed you."

"And I've missed you."

Breaking off a section of biscuit, she pressed it between his lips while Sully shifted to a more comfortable position. After offering him a sip of tea, she plopped another bite into his mouth then slid from the bed towards the hearth. Sully bit into another biscuit and sipped his tea as she added more wood to the dieing embers. The wood crackled repeatedly as the flames grew higher, illuminating the entire room.

Turning suddenly, Michaela provocatively sashayed towards their bed. Upon witnessing his wife's immodest attire in the increasing light, Sully's eyes widened and he choked. Moving quickly, she rescued the cup from his hand while he fought to catch his breath. Finally gaining control, he disbelievingly watched as his wife perched herself on the edge of the mattress then swiftly offered him another bite. It was all he could do to swallow.

Momentarily unable to form an intelligent sentence or process a complete thought, Sully focused on her outfit. She definitely wasn't wearing her usual nightdress. In fact, she was wearing… well… what the heck was it? Shiny black satin material accented with white lace silhouetted her feminine curves. The short black skirt also edged in white lace didn't quite reach mid-thigh. Black stockings covered her curvaceous legs. The strapless outfit included a white satin apron that tied in back and small bands of white lace, interwoven with black ribbon, encircled her dainty wrists. This was HIS wife?

Noticing him attentively study her scanty clothing, Michaela smiled slyly and ventured a few strides towards the hearth. There, she tantalizingly twirled before her astounded husband. "Do you like it?"

Sully struggled to swallow the bite she last fed to him. "Um… on you?" He cleared his throat. "Sure." He attempted another sip of tea. "Where'd ya-"

"Get it?" she quipped. "I borrowed it from one of Hank's girls."

"Hank's girls?" he spat out, setting the cup aside.

"Does that bother you?" She glided closer, her eyes revealing a hint of mischief.

Sully scrambled to gather his wits, a real challenge for the moment. "I… guess not."

Grinning, she sprung back onto the bed with the sleekness of a panther and inched herself seductively closer to her bewildered mountain man.

Sully forcefully blinked his eyes. _What the heck has gotten into her?_

"Michaela, have you been working with or testing any new medicines today?"

"Of course not. Why do you ask?" She pushed another bite into his mouth, followed quickly by a sip of tea then a slow sensuous kiss. She repeated this process over and over.

Desperately, Sully tried to answer her question or ask a new one, but each time he attempted to speak, Michaela made sure his mouth was too busy for words. While he obediently ate, she toyed with his hair or restlessly caressed his chest and shoulders. After he finished the tea, she rewarded him with another kiss. Not just any ordinary kiss, but a full-blown all-out seductively passionate kiss that forced his lungs to beg for air. Eagerly, she tasted his muscular shoulders, working her way up his neck and each time Sully tried to speak, her insatiable hunger devoured the words. His wife certainly built up quite an appetite in his absence and it had nothing to do with food.

"Micha-…"

She kissed him deeply. Purposefully burying her hands into his hair, holding him captive.

"Not so…"

Clearly driven, she seemed unstoppable. It was all he could do to breathe.

"Slow… down," he gasped.

Pulling back, she gazed wantonly into her husband's vivid blue eyes then leaned forward and whispered breathlessly into his ear. Sully's eyes widened, his expression aghast.

"Michaela?!" he exclaimed slightly above a whisper so as not to wake the children.

"What?" she questioned, feigning innocence despite her taunting smile. "I thought you wanted to make a baby."

"I do," he strained.

"Then what's the matter?"

He swallowed noticeably. "I just never heard you… _**talk**_… like that before."

"Surprise." She beamed another suggestive smile his way before adding, "It's amazing what you can learn from a book."

Still speechless, Sully observed his wife closely as she removed the tray and set it on the floor by their bedroom door. Making direct eye contact with her ruggedly handsome husband, she discretely, yet right before his eyes, scandalously lowered the black stockings down her legs. Sully's mouth went dry, his brain numbed. Michaela's uncharacteristic behavior made him feel warmly intoxicated – enraptured, yet uncomfortably captivated. He didn't know what to think. Considering the circumstances, he was lucky he could think at all.

Slithering alongside of her perplexed spouse, she encircled her arms possessively about his neck and imprisoned his mouth against her own. Sully surrendered, allowing her ardent mood to sweep over him until he felt the heavy quilt shift, slowly exposing his lower body. Stealing a downward glance, he discovered Michaela's adventurous foot as the culprit. Immediately readjusting his position in a feeble attempt to gain _**some**_ control over the intense situation, he guardedly propped his back against his pillow.

Michaela smiled playfully, "Sully… we're married," she reminded him, "I've seen you like this before."

"But I've never seen _**you**_ like _**this**_ before."

"I'm anxious," she boldly admitted without even blushing.

"I can tell."

Without any further hesitation, Michaela placed her pillow atop the other one behind Sully then, stunning her unsuspecting husband, brazenly straddled him, covering his lower torso. "Better?"

" I…"

Before another word escaped his lips, Michaela eagerly pressed her mouth to his in another hungry fiery kiss. His heart raced as he complied with his spirited wife's wishes, his body heat escalated with each passing second. Affectionately, Sully's hands roamed over her thighs, caressing her soft skin then wandered beneath her skirt's thin material to discover… nothing? Startled once again by her unusual sense of propriety, shock seized his brain and he broke the connection of their never-ending kiss.

"Michaela?" he questioned anxiously, "you're not wearing-"

"Surprise again," she purred huskily then proved it by cocooning him securely in place. Her radiant eyes danced with enthusiasm as she smoothed her roving hands over his chest then recaptured his already ravished lips.

Now joined with his ferociously impassioned wife, a multitude of overpowering sensations washed over him. Slowing her down seemed beyond his control - impossible. This was crazy… inconceivable, yet incredibly thrilling and he knew the memory of this night would last him a lifetime.

The next morning, Sully awakened from an extremely deep, restful sleep. Images of last night's heated activities flooded his mind when he glanced at his adoring wife still peacefully sleeping by his side. The quilt remained tucked securely over her shoulders; her long brown hair splayed softly across her pillow. Running a hand leisurely down his face, Sully smiled happily and stretched. _That was one heck of a dream_, he thought until he spied the tray of food set on the floor by their bedroom door. Unexpected realization sent what felt like a current of electricity racing through his veins. He shook his head in disbelief. _It was a dream… wasn't it?_

Questioning reality, he impulsively yanked the blankets off Michaela so he could verify her attire with his own eyes.

"Sully!" she exclaimed, now jarred suddenly awake, scrambling frantically for the quilt to cover her nightdress. "What in the world?"

"I was just checkin' something. Where'd you put 'em?"

"Put what?"

"The _clothes_ you were wearin' last night."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Michaela… you weren't actin' like yourself last night."

"I was sleeping," she defended.

"Then explain the tray."

"What tray?"

"That tray." He directed his eyes towards their bedroom door.

Michaela cast a puzzled look in his direction before slipping out of bed. Stooping to the floor, she grasped a note situated on the tray with what appeared to be tea and corn muffins. She read it aloud.

"Since you both had a long day yesterday, we thought we'd make you breakfast for a change. Enjoy. See you after school. Colleen and Brian."

Sully released a long breath and fell back against his pillow.

Slightly miffed, Michaela crossed her arms. "Now would you care to explain your actions this morning?"

"It seemed real enough," he muttered.

"What did?"

"Obviously a dream."

Michaela approached their bed with the breakfast tray. Sitting down, she set it beside her. Sully moved closer and they began to eat.

"I'm sorry for wakin' ya the way I did," he sincerely apologized.

"A simple "Good morning" would have sufficed."

"I know, I'm sorry. I should have known it was a crazy dream all along. I just needed to see…" his words trailed off.

"See what?"

Sully cleared his throat. "In my dream, you woke me in the middle of the night."

"For an emergency?" she inquired.

He chuckled slightly, "I guess you could call it that. You were wearin'…" he paused suddenly and his face flushed.

"I was wearing what?"

"Nothin'"

"Sully!"

"No, not nothin'… something… never mind."

"Sully, what was I wearing in your dream?"

"You don't want to know."

"Yes I do," she insisted.

He shook his head.

"Sully!"

"It was just different is all."

"How different?"

"VERY different."

Silence fell between them as they continued to eat.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" she continued.

"It's just embarrassing to think that I could dream something like that."

He set the tray aside.

"You can tell me anything," Michaela informed him.

"Not this."

"Did you _like_ what I was wearing?"

"I like everything you wear."

"Would you prefer I wear something… _**different**_… once in a while?"

"No." His eyes softened, "I like the _all-natural_ you best."

Michaela blushed.

Before she realized his intentions, Sully swiftly pulled her onto his lap.

"Sully…"

"Good morning." Securing his arms about her, he silenced her with a tender kiss. "Do you have patients this morning?"

"Not until eleven."

"Good." Grinning, he rolled her onto the mattress, his vivid blue eyes expressing his undying affection for the woman of his dreams.

"Are you sure your dream isn't indicating that you really wish I were… _different_?"

He kissed her again, longer… more deeply, conveying to her the love that fills his heart so completely.

"Michaela, I don't ever want you to be different. You _**always**_ have my full attention - just the way you are."

He pressed in to kiss her again, but she halted his motion with a touch of her fingers to his chin.

"It must have been some dream," she persisted.

He grinned down at her. "It was…" then more seriously added, "but, it ain't nothin' compared to the real thing."


End file.
